by JB Salsbury
“I want you to know that I talked to Gage about what happened.”
It takes a second for my mind to catch up with her meaning and then the memory slams into me. The truck, we were talking and…my eyes dart to hers. “You know. About my family.”
And she’s here with me anyway.
She stands a little taller and holds my gaze. “Gage told me everything.”
Everything? Even I don’t know everything.
She reaches forward and picks up my hand, pressing it to her chest. “You know he’d never share that with me if he didn’t trust me, and now I need to ask you to do the same, Lucas. Can you do that? Can you trust me?”
I search the recesses of my heart, my mind, and dig back to the depths of my soul. Do I?
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Yes. I do.”
Her face lights up in a smile so brilliant it’s almost too bright to look at, too much to behold. “Really? You usually say no.”
I run my knuckles along her cheek and she sighs and leans into my touch. “Guess you could say you’ve proved yourself trustworthy.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. I know you don’t trust people easily, especially women.” I lose her smile and miss it instantly.
“How do you know that?”
It comes back, but it looks forced. Shaky. “Gage told me about your mom. What she’d do to you and your brothers and sister.”
He told her about my past. The disgusting things I was forced to do, and the even worse things Gage protected me from. Those aren’t stories shared between lovers or friends. Those are tales of horror, the backbone of every nightmare, and meant to be taken to the grave. And I hate that Shy’s been tainted by them.
My hand drops from her face and I step back. “Why would he tell you that?” My voice sounds void. Emotionless.
“Don’t get mad, okay, I just…” She chews her bottom lip, her eyes skirting to the nearly set sun, then back to me. “Do you ever wonder what happened that day, the day you got that scar?”
“No.” Gage took over that day, and I don’t need to know the details of what happened to know it ended in four lives lost. “If I knew the truth, I’d probably hate myself more than I already do.”
“You’re not even a little curious to know—”
“No. Not even a little.” All that matters is a jury found me innocent. What really happened is irrelevant.
“But—”
“Drop it, Shy!” I turn away, pissed at myself for snapping at her. She doesn’t deserve my anger. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
“Why not me?”
Because I want you to like me, don’t want you to see how weak I am, want to be deserving of you.
I turn and force myself to relax. “I don’t want to know, okay?”
She shakes her head. “Okay, I understand.” She holds out her hand. “Come on, it’s getting dark. We should go.”
I stare at the patch of earth where flowers are now crushed as evidence of what we’d done there and feel the frustration melt away. She tugs on my hand and after one last glance, I follow Shyann into the thick of the forest.
Thirty-One
Lucas
It’s dark by the time we get back to the river house. We took our time hoofing through the trees talking about mindless things. She laughs when I tell stories about the guys at work, and she tells me stories about those same guys from when she was a kid.
Things are light between us, no talks about Gage or my past, not a mention of the murders. Thunder crackles overhead and we get the first few drops of rain as we hit the creek.
We hold hands as we maneuver the rustic-log bridge, and what started as drizzle quickly turns to a downpour. Her laughter permeates the air along with the powerful scent of pine and rain as we race to the front door.
Buddy barks at us from his spot beneath the porch, and Shy gives him a quick rub before pulling me to the door. She grins up at me, breathing heavy, her black hair wet and beads of rain on her eyelashes. “That came out of nowhere.”
I open the door for her to go inside, but she stands for a few silent seconds before making a move to cross the threshold.
“If this is uncomfortable…” I rub the back of my neck, hating the words I’m about to say. “You don’t have to stay.”
She steps to me and pushes up on her tiptoes to press her lips against mine. Salt from her skin mixes with the cool rain and I lick my lips to absorb every drop.
Her eyes track from my lips to my neck, then dip to my chest. “You’re drenched.”
“So are you,” I whisper, and don’t know why, but it’s like the volume has been turned down on everything but my pounding heart.
She dips her hands beneath my T-shirt and I lift my arms as she slides it up my body and over my head. Her gaze moves across my shoulders, my chest, and lower until her hands hook into my jeans. She fumbles with my belt but manages to get it open along with my button fly. I’m so hard, so ready for her that my erection strains the fabric of my boxers.
Her jaw falls open and her chest rises and falls erratically as she stares openly between my legs. Unable to control my need for her, I cup her jaw, tilting her head up, and crash my mouth to hers. I suck at her lips that taste of rainwater and only leave me thirsty for more. There’s no gentle teasing, no silent requests for entrance. Our tongues lash violently together as if we’d finally let go of all restraint. I walk her back, moving deeper into the house while pulling at her sweater, pushing it up over her breasts while she struggles to free her arms, only then breaking the kiss long enough to pull it from her head.
My eyes burn to stare, to study her in nothing but jeans and a bra, but the competition of her mouth is too much. Later. I’ll take time to worship every swell and dip of her body, learning her sounds and committing them to memory, but not now.
I pull at the straps of her bra, wanting the thing off but not having the slightest clue how to do it. She giggles against my lips at my clumsy attempt and I push her back against the wall in the hallway. “I wish I was better at this.” My forehead presses to hers while she easily releases the clasp and it falls to the floor.
She hooks the elastic of my boxers with her fingers and brings my hips to hers. The heat of her bare chest hits mine. “You’re better than you think.”
The sensation of her warmth against me makes the urge to explode impossible to ignore. I’m shivering with excitement, raw desire, and a hint of nerves. I bend, cup her bottom, and easily lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap tightly around my waist and her heat grinds against my erection.
“Mmm…you feel so good.”
Her tongue licks along my neck, the wet slide against my scar making me jerk behind my boxers.
I carry her into my room with uncoordinated steps and gently lay her down on the bed. There’s a brief moment of insecurity, of what she might think of my stark room, the bare twin mattress with cheap sheets and sleeping bag blanket, but all that fear quickly evaporates when her hand grips me over the cotton of my boxers.
“Is this…really happening?” I pant against her neck, and she slides her hand beneath the elastic and wraps her fist around me. “Oh…” I moan, and she bows on the bed in a way that makes me lose my breath.
“Yes, but only if you want it to.”
I reach down and cup her between her legs like she taught me earlier, running my fingers roughly over her until she’s groaning in frustration.
“I want to feel you.” She releases me to pop the button of her jeans and I hop off the bed to remove her boots, socks, and finally her jeans and panties until she’s completely bared to me.
The visual hits me like an erotic assault and I step back in admiration. I record the moment to memory, hammering it into my head while swearing to myself that if Gage robs me of this with her, I’ll never forgive him.
She props herself up on her elbows and my gaze follows the weight of her breasts, and the dark pebbled nipples that beg for my mouth. “L
ucas?”
My eyes dart to hers and she relaxes a little. Maybe she’s just as nervous about Gage stealing this as I am.
“I don’t have a condom.” Never really had any need for one before now.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to have sex.”
My jaw drops open and I slam it shut, hoping she doesn’t notice.
She laughs and holds her hand out. “Okay, maybe we do.”
I can’t trust my body with Shyann’s unless I know I can keep her safe. If I were able to communicate with Gage, I could ask him if he has a stash hidden somewhere— Oh!
“Wait!” I hold up a hand and race to the bathroom, searching through drawers until—aha! A single square of foil.
Thank you, Gage!
Back in the room, I find Shy lying on her side, her black hair scattered around my pillow, and the feminine swells of her form calling for mine.
“You’re the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen, Shy.” My voice cracks with the emotion of it all, the lust driving through my veins, combined with something heavy that’s new and terrifying.
I palm the condom and pull off my boots, allow my jeans to drop to my ankles and kick them off along with my socks. Her eyes drink me in and every feeling I have for her is reflected in her stare. Is it even possible that she could have a fraction of what I have going on for her, going on for me?
In nothing but my boxers, my hard-on punching through the thin white cotton, I cross to the bed. She rolls to her back, as if her body is reflexively opening for my intrusion. Standing—terrified of getting too close, for I know once our bodies connect, I’ll be lost to her completely—I hang on to a little bit of my control.
I bring my hand between her legs and— My breath leaves my lips on a hiss. So warm and wet and perfect. I use my fingers like she showed me and find the parts of her body that make her writhe and moan, sinking one finger inside, then adding another until everything in me wants to crawl deep within.
“I want to kiss you here.”
She bites her lip and nods.
I move to the end of the bed, putting one knee between her feet and pressing open her thighs. “You’re so beautiful.”
Her hands grip the bed, her hips rolling in invitation. “Please, Lucas. I can’t wait any longer.”
Bending forward, I use my tongue the way I did my fingers. A long cry bursts from her lips and I shoot upright. “Did that hurt? Did I do—”
She shakes her head impatiently. “No, hurry…more.”
My chest swells and my lips twitch. “You like it.”
“Yes, please, yes. So much.”
I resume my position and kiss her between her legs the way I kiss her mouth, alternating between long swipes of my tongue, nips with my teeth, and gentle suction that has her moaning my name and begging. Her taste floods my mouth and feeds my addiction.
My stomach flutters with nerves, at what I’m about to do, but I fear if I don’t do it soon I’ll lose my chance. I push back and peel down my boxers. My body strains for her and she licks her lips, practically sending me to my knees with want.
Every time I look at her, the pressure of climax coils and threatens release. Breathe, do algebra, anything to avoid this ending too soon. Ripping open the condom with my teeth, I roll it on and meet Shyann’s hungry, lust-fogged eyes.
“You sure?” I need to know I’m not imagining she wants me with the same desperation that I want her.
“Never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
I close my eyes at the rough tone in her voice and her words of acceptance sending sensations all over my body. Once I’ve regained a sliver of restraint, I crawl up and between her legs. She opens them wide and the heat of her core swallows me.
“Mmm…Shy, you feel so good.”
Her hands guide my hips and she presses me forward. Inch by inch, I sink into the relentless grip of her body, stealing my breath. I still, unable to move as I allow myself a second to just be.
She encourages me to move, rolling her hips and gripping my ass. “Move, it’s okay.”
“It’s not.” I pull back and lazily slide in. “This is far, far better than okay.”
Braced on my elbows, I can’t tear my gaze away from her sly grin as I move inside her. The heated clutch of her body around mine sends the signal to drive into her to my muscles. I hold back, going slow so I can watch as every ridge glides against her softness.
I want to kiss her, to suck her lips so deep she becomes part of me, to drink in her essence, hold her captive, lock her away from the pain of the world and never let her go. Without the conscious decision to do so, I pick up rhythm and she meets me thrust for thrust. I remember how parts of her body would make her scream, so I tilt my hips with a long and languid roll. She sucks in a breath, her fingernails biting into my back.
Tension gathers at the base of my spine and pulls tighter than any orgasm I’ve ever felt. “I’m lost to you, Shyann.” I suck her bottom lip into my mouth. “Gone forever.”
Her back arches off the bed and a low and sexy groan falls from her lips. She tightens around me and the extra sensation shoves me off the ledge. I bury my face in her neck and thrust so hard I’m afraid I’ve hurt her, but my name falls from her lips on a heady groan of ecstasy, pulsing around me, milking me and taking my very soul with it.
She whispers something and I go still. No, I must’ve heard that wrong. I slide in and out of her, unable to give up the feeling of being deep inside her, wondering if I give her up if I’ll get this chance again.
The thought cracks my chest in two.
Her hands run up and down my back, soothing the sting of her nail tracks, and a sick part of me hopes she marked me permanently. Left me with proof this isn’t a dream and I had the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known in my bed and in my arms even if for only one night.
“…so much. I do.”
I pull back and meet her eyes. Liquid blue staring up at me, her cheeks flushed and her full lips trembling.
“Did I hurt you?”
A tiny smile ticks her lips, but her eyes fill with tears. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”
One drop falls from her eye and I snag it with my finger, rubbing it into my own skin as if I could absorb her pain. “Shy…you’re crying.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “I know. I haven’t cried since—”
“The night in the river.”
Her smile falls, but she doesn’t seem embarrassed at my bringing up my seeing her naked. I suppose having sex means we’re beyond that now. “Yes, the night in the river. And before that it’d been years.”
I run my thumb along her cheek. “Why now?”
She shrugs and smiles sadly. “Because I’m pathetic, weak…and madly in love with you.”
Every muscle in my body turns to stone and I stare openly at her. There’s no way she just said that…to me. “W-what?”
She sighs heavily. “Yeah, I do. I love you, Lucas.”
I blink. “What?”
Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I. Love. You.”
My eyes slam closed and I push away the thoughts that tell me I’m unworthy, that all this is too much to be true and I must be dead. Somehow, somewhere I was deemed good enough for heaven and I’ve finally made it because outside of heaven this would never happen to someone like me.
I rest my forehead against hers and hold my fingertips to her lips, needing to feel her mouth move to convince myself it’s not a hallucination. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Lucas.”
I suck in a breath at the feel of her lips moving against my skin, the gust of her hot breath as she says the words I never thought I’d hear.
“Please…” Let this be real. My fingers tremble against her mouth. “Again.”
“I love you, so much. All of you.”
I rock my head from side to side against hers. “How is that possible?” I move inside her, this time more forceful, overwhelmed by her words.
By her acc
eptance.
My eyes burn, but I refuse to cry. Refuse to fall apart at the one time in my life when I’ve never felt more whole.
Her hands sift into my hair. “Kiss me.”
I nod, knowing now and this day forward I’d give her anything she asked for. I’d pull my beating heart from my own chest if she wanted it.
Tilting my head, I kiss her with the emotion of a man who never believed in love but who with this one woman has learned that even the damned have a chance at redemption. Even the vile can find acceptance.
There are hearts big enough to love those who are different than them, who are hard to understand.
And I, by some freak accident, found her.
I’ll die before I let her go.
Thirty-Two
Shyann
Rain pummels the roof of the river house while Lucas and I lie naked and tangled in each other. The window is open and the smell of the forest is intensified as it blows over our heated bodies.
My cheek is pressed to Lucas’s chest, and I find peace in the gentle rhythm of his pulse. He’s relaxed, and if it weren’t for fingers tracing a pattern on my back, I’d think he was asleep. I pretend he’s creating one of his drawings, maybe an image of our future together or perhaps a recollection of our lovemaking.
“What’re you thinking about?” He accents his words with a squeeze to my hip.
“Trying to figure out what you’re drawing on my back.”
He chuckles and the sound washes over me, sinking me deeper into his embrace. “You’re so soft. Can’t stop touching you.” His fingertips continue to dance across my skin.
“So you’re not creating your next masterpiece?”
His hand flattens against my skin and he kisses the top of my head. “You’re the masterpiece, Shy.”
I close my eyes and absorb his words.
“But I can’t concentrate enough to draw right now.”
I turn at his serious tone and rest my chin on his pec. “What’s wrong?”
He blinks down at me. “You told me you love me.” Confusion darkens his gorgeous face.
